


Shepards We Shall Be

by OrilliaOrange



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:36:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6866425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrilliaOrange/pseuds/OrilliaOrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Mass Effect stories</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Have You Lost Your Damn Mind?"

“A _turian?_ Sweetie, don’t take this the wrong way but _have you lost your damn mind!?_ ”

Her mother’s vid link wavered in and out. Idly, Shepard wondered if she could feign a bad signal. Maybe have Joker say they were passing through some radiation, or weird space junk was interfering with their coms. Not that there was much hope of pulling the wool over her mother’s eyes. You didn’t spend your life in the navy without picking up on a few tricks. Shepard met her mother’s incredulous stare, and tried to remember that she was an adult. They were both adults, and could deal with this in a responsible, mature way. 

“I haven’t lost my mind, Ma. I’m not the first person to ever-” Shepard’s mind flicked through several options including _date, sleep with, be maybe in love with_. “There are all kinds of couples on the citadel, Ma. I’m not… a deviant or something.” 

“You’re my daughter, I thought you’d have more sense than that! What do the two of you- you aren’t even biologically compatible, for god’s sake!” Her mother sagged into her chair. “You’ll never be able to have kids, or visit his family without _someone_ trying to bring up the First Contact War…”

“I can’t visit _our_ family without someone bringing up the First Contact War,” Shepard said wryly. 

“Don’t be glib. Sweetie I’m _worried_ for you.” Hannah Shepard’s mouth pulled down into a frown. “Do you think you… could Cerberus have…?”

“Yeah because Cerberus is really fond of aliens,” Shepard said. “C’mon, Ma. You’ve worked alongside turians. How hard is it to accept that Garrus is a nice guy?”

Her mother glanced off to the side, her frown deepening. 

“Just because I worked with krogans, are you going to… go along with one of them too?”

A smile split Shepard’s face. 

“Funny story about that, Ma…” 

Her mother held up a hand. 

“I _don’t_ want to hear about it!” she said, a note of panic in her voice. 

“Ah but it’s a great story! There’s a thresher maw involved…” Shepard said, waggling her eyebrows. 

Her mother gave her a black look. 

“Ma, I’m not asking for your _permission_ , or your blessing, or whatever. I…” Shepard blushed. “I _like_ Garrus, Ma.”

She toyed with one of her model ships, one Garrus had picked up on their last trip stationside. A turian dreadnought. Silence reigned from the other side of the comm console.

“He makes you happy?” her mother asked in a sharp tone. 

“Yeah,” Shepard agreed, with a goofy smile. “He really does, Ma.” 

Shepard met her mother’s stern gaze. Something in Hannah Shepard’s face softened. 

“I don’t…” she exhaled sharply through her nose. “I don’t _like_ it, but… bring your turian to visit, the next time you’re on leave.”

“I will, yeah. Thanks Ma,” Shepard said, “Next time we’ve got shore leave.”

“Be careful, sweetie.” Something on Hannah’s side of the link beeped. “I have to go. Love you.”

“Love you too Ma,” Shepard said, cutting the link. 


	2. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard takes a nap. Set during ME3, post Citadel dlc.
> 
>  
> 
> Prompted by vehlr, filled for the Fic a Day in May challenge.

Humans are soft when they sleep. Tiny. Garrus has seen them slumped in the Citadel’s drunk tank, sleeping off a night of bad decisions at Chora’s Den. When he’d first served on the Normandy, it had surprised him to see the abrupt shift between awake and asleep. All their relentless vitality sapped. 

Jane mumbles, and kicks the blanket off the end of the bed. Garrus smiles, watches until she settles again. When he’d first seen her sleep, it hadn’t seemed right. Commander Shepard, slumped in the Mako’s front seat, a wrench cradled in her lap. His heart had stuttered, sure she was sick. Kaidan had laughed, shut the door very quietly and told anyone who asked that the Commander was calibrating the Mako and not to disturb her. Garrus hadn’t been able to forget the slope of her body, the softness of her mouth, the grace of her hands twined around the crude haft of the wrench. Her fair hair hung in her face, loose from the bun she’d always worn.

Now the smooth shape of her skull gleams in the low light of her cabin. It is a surprising pleasure, to shave her head. One Garrus had never thought about previously. Guiding the clippers across Jane’s delicate skull, laughing as she blows wafting bits of hair out of her face. Kissing the nape of her neck. It is a domestic kind of intimacy he treasures. The sort of thing you remember, speeding through the vastness of space to fight a battle you don’t expect to live through. That’s business as usual for them, but there’s no way he’ll take any second of their time for granted. 

Not like their run on the Collector base. That one too short liaison, followed by hours of agony as they’d torn through the base. In the heat of battle, everything had clarified. He’d made a lot of promises about never waiting again. 

Garrus tilts his head back and watches the stars stream past the window. Nothing like the view from Ander- Jane’s apartment, right in the middle of all the best and worst the Citadel had to offer. That had been some party. 

Their own personal after party had been something too. Garrus smiles up at the skylight. He’d made good on some of those promises from the Collector base, then. By the time they’d fallen asleep, there wasn’t a centimetre of Jane he hadn’t touched. 

Jane snuffles. 

Garrus wonders if it’s too late to ask her for another dance. 


	3. Sledgehammer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus walks in on Shepard and the Mako having a disagreement.

“Pass me the sledgehammer,” Shepard growls.

The mess scattered through the cargo bay is about what Garrus expected, given the noise. Bits of mechanical odds and ends lie discarded around the Mako’s battered shell. Shepard’s legs stick out from beneath it, her navy fatigues spattered with oil and grease.

“Shepard, the sledgehammer is bigger than you,” he says.

There’s a grunt, then a metallic clang. Garrus winces.

“I don’t care. Tell Joker to boot up the cannon. This rotten hunk of junk is-”

“Our only ground transport?” Garrus interjects. “Property of our joint governments?”

“A goddamn annoyance,” Shepard snarls.

She shoves herself out from beneath the Mako, and Garrus’ heart squeezes. There’s grease smeared along her torso and face, dark smudges like old human camouflage makeup. Her brows are drawn down over her nose in a grimace Garrus really shouldn’t find attractive. There are so many reasons why that’s a bad thing to think about his human commanding officer. Lots and lots of reasons he can’t actually call to mind, because he’s too busy watching her scrub grime off her cheeks.

“Why don’t you let me take a crack at it?” Garrus suggests, rather than voice any of his other thoughts.

“You a mechanic, Vakarian?” she drawls. “Or just volunteering to put the poor thing out of its misery?”

She pats the Mako’s hull with affection. Less aggression, anyways.

“Offering to perform triage?” Garrus says.

A smile quirks Shepard’s mouth up. Her eyes shine. It’s a look Garrus really likes.

_Commanding officer,_ Garrus reminds himself.

“Doctor Vakarian,” she says, and gives him a little half-bow.

Garrus chuffs, and crosses the rest of the space between himself and the Mako’s desecrated shell. Up close, the damage done is not so dramatic as it seemed from across the room.

“I think she’ll live,” Garrus says. “It’s looking grim, though.”

Shepard tilts her head up, that same little grin tipping her lips up. Garrus buries himself in the familiar twists of wire and metal, and tries to ignore the warm feeling in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For an anon who asked: "For the first sentence writing prompt. Shepard is trying to make some repairs to the Mako by herself, frustration ensues. Garrus walks in and first thing he hears is number 5."

**Author's Note:**

> Because I needed a place for all my little Mass Effect one shots!


End file.
